


Peace Fluff & Crack

by Catminty



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catminty/pseuds/Catminty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy crack in a peaceful, post-war AU. </p><p>Part 1 & 2: Prowl loves cats.<br/>Part 3: Wheeljack, cowgirl style.<br/>Part 4: Grimlock thinks there should be more Kup time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt on TF Bunny Farm, though the love may not go both ways.
> 
> http://tf-bunny-farm.livejournal.com/429255.html

Matte obsidian plating shifted past swatch of light streaming into the shadows. Pawed peds padded with the faintest of sounds even as the creature darted swiftly through the dark. Even pedfall echoed an increasingly short distance behind Ravage's retreating form. Cabling coiled tightly as the cybercat prepared to break into a run.

"Wait," the mech chasing him called out evenly. 

Bolting, he dared not a glance back, for he knew what fate the mech had in store. It was a miracle he had lasted this long in their game of cybercat and glitchmouse. If the mech caught him, Ravage knew that his resistances would not stand for long.

The few mechs and femme still up at this joor rushed out of the way of the pair. Sharply turning halls squandered the cybercat's speed while giving his pursuer the advantage: this was his home turf, and he had chased more than a few troublemakers in his orn. 

Fatigue seeped into Ravage's joints--he was made for short runs, not longwinded jaunts--and the chase was quickly wearing him out. Desperation led his tracks to the room he knew his last salvation resided.  

Clawed peds raked against the door frantically. Ravage let out a snarl as deft servos grabbed him around his midsection and hoisted him into the air.

"Ah hah!" his captor crowed. Weak from the chase, the cybercat tried to wiggle free of the strong grip on the scruff of his collar. Sensing defeat, he slumped down moodily. "Good kitty," the mech crooned as he carried his prize away. 

The door to the quarters opened, two helms poking out to see the commotion. A blue mech hummed a sleepy bleep and settled against the purring high-performance engine at his back. 

"Close the door. Come back to bed," the third mech in the room grumbled. 

"C'mon," the moody racer huffed, pulling the blue mech back inside.

They settled in a lump on the berth, dozing back to a peaceful recharge with piteous yowling as their lullaby. 

~-~-~

Heavy strokes of a chamomile cloth swiped down Ravage's plating. Held loosely in his captor's grasp, he fought with every electron of his frame to resist the rumbling purr welling in his vocalizer. It didn't feel good; the mech wasn't good at waxing or polishing or grooming in general.

It was amazing; Prowl was _phenomenal._

The cybercat stretched across the tactician's legs in a strutless sprawl. Seemingly growing a processor of its own, his hindquarters rose languidly with each stroke down his backstruts. Skilled digits scritched just the right spot behind his ears--!!

Prowl nuzzled Ravage happily when his walls finally crumbled and he began to purr. Resistance was futile when the stubborn tactician was involved, so he grumpily accepted his fate of being doted upon by the apparent cat lover.

He didn't know how such an obsession had manifested in the mech or how Steeljaw had claimed some sort of exemption from the smothering affection. Ravage's optics rolled back in bliss. Fraggit, those servos knew just the places to itch...

Maybe it wasn't entirely horrible. Ravage lazily glanced up at the mech silently sitting beside them. The intrigued/horrified expression on the saboteur's face almost made the embarrassment worth it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our turbopup does this. It's just too cute not to Ravagify.

Blinking away the fogginess from a good recharge, Ravage stared blearily at the object a short distance from his snout. A long, brightly colored ball of organic fluff with stupid looking googly eyes stared up at him. The paws under his helm flexed, sinking their sharp claws into the floor. 

This was Prowl's work. Oh yes, he knew what was going on here. Ravage could even see the "invisible" string linking to the toy to the stick the mech held. It didn't help that the tactician was watching his each and every reaction with rapt interest. 

The toy wiggled. Ravage's helm raised, audio receptors slicked back in annoyance. If this ploy was some pathetic attempt at showing his supposed "feline tendencies," he silently vowed to destroy whatever the tactician held most dear. 

A soft tug on the line pulled the toy forward, closer to the peeved cybercat. His paw smacked the ground lightly in the toy's direction. Indignantly, Ravage glared at his disobedient appendage. It was just a toy for pit's sake. Just a stupid, inferior toy--

The fluff jerked again, but this time in the opposite direction.

A stupid, inferior toy that that needed to _DIE_ a fiery death! He couldn't stop his full-framed jolt as both his paws smacked at the moving object. Just as the tip of his paw grazed the fluff, it darted away in the opposite direction. Its mocking eyes of discord and ever-elusive path made Ravage's hackles rise as he leapt back and forth across the floor. 

Someone laughed sharply. He didn't know who, but he planned to maul the mech just as soon as he caught the annoying piece of scrap. He had to destroy it. Such a foul construct of torture had no place in existence!

~-~-~

A small smile tugged at the corners of Prowl's derma. He used the wand to slowly drag the teaser toy across the ground. The decreases speed was reflected in the cybercat's frame, slowing his movements to a singleminded stalk after the elusive prey. 

Jazz found the display just as amusing as he did. The saboteur leaned in close, stage whispering, "Hey. Prowler. We should get a laser pointer."

Prowl's smile stretched wide at the thought. With a quick flick of the wrist joint, Ravage dashed across the floor with an almighty _"Rowlll!"_  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon stikes again! Where did this idea even come from?

Heat flushed Wheeljack's cheeks in embarrassment. Friction-heated metal smoothed teasingly between his thighs. He just got on, but he could already tell he wouldn't last half as long as the others. Slow, rhythmic thrusts were met with gyrating grinds. He just needed to focus on the, er, "task at hand."

Credits changing hands in the overflowing crowd only made Wheeljack even more self-conscious. While he liked to think of this as an act for his own enjoyment, it was just as much a show. The others laughed and took bets on how long he could hold out, who he might last longer than. If he were alone, he could focus on the increasingly rough bucking and chafing grind between his legs. But no. With all of the intense stares focused on his bobbing aft and strained hold, Wheeljack felt his control slipping further. 

The Beast, or so it had been named, bucked fiercely, causing him to grunt. His control was slipping. More heat pooled in his face in correlation with the heat spreading between his legs; it was almost there, it wouldn't be long now--

"Finish him!" someone called cheekily from the crowd. 

As if on cue, Wheeljack was falling, spiraling into The Abyss like so many mechs before him that dared challenge The Beast. 

No, really. Wheeljack was thrown to the pit with a startled yelp when the bucking bronco machine twisted and jolted at the same time. The sky spun in a tizzy as his systems tried to figure out which way was up and why he was tangled like a pretzel. He pondered on the probability of someone upping the difficulty partway through his run. The fraggers. 

Wheeljack lifted himself from the padded pit surrounding the construct. Ratchet was standing by, all smiles with his handful of credits. Eyeing the chips, the inventor asked hopefully, "How did I do?"

"Better than Wildrider--I have no clue how to explain that--but worse than me," Ratchet said, laughing heartily. "Not bad. And, hey, you beat your last time."

So he was a bit chafed and sore, but at least his pride wasnt shot. Smiling behind his facemask, Wheeljack accepted those results. For now anyway. Maybe one day he'd master control of his creation. Or one of them anyway. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimlock thinks there should be more Kup time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought "Kup" was pronounced "coop" until I saw season 3. Then Grimlock went all adorable for Kup.

It was late into the night during the calm evening on Cybertron. Five mechs gathered around a table with piles of cards and chips. The mighty Grimlock sat by Swoop and not-so-quietly suggested--ordered--how he should play his hand. Somehow, the other mechs managed to catch on to his tactic. "You, Swoop, have bad hand. Bluff" didn't tend to pay off as well as they had hoped, but they were still in the game if only by the other mechs' kindness. 

"Gah. Fraggit, Dead End, do you have to put those slagging things on the table?" Ratchet huffed, pulling at the stringy, sticky trails of an energon treat connecting his hand to the tabletop. 

A dark look clouded Dead End's face. "Fine. I won't eat anymore. Will that make you happy?" he asked dully.

"Slagging--" Ratchet pulled his hand away and eyed the mess. "That's not what I meant and you know it." The medic looked up at Grimlock who was staring intently at the cards Swoop held sideways. "Grimy, could you go get me some solvent? And a cup, too."

Grimlock looked to Ratchet, a confused look crossing his enlarged features. At the medic's stare, he turned and lumbered off to find the items. 

Disgusted, Ratchet watched as the sticky goop on his lifted hand started to melt down his arm. "Ugh. How do you even eat these things?"

"They're supposed to melt in your mouth," Blast Off mumbled over his datapad.

A quiet struggle and muffled voice brought everyone's attention to the door. "--lock, why are you carrying me?" Kup said as he tried to pry loose Grimlock's tight hold around his midsection. 

"Grimlock..." Ratchet stood, stomping over to the large Dinobot. "Solvent. I asked for solvent, not Kup!"

The Dinobot leaned his helm forward, nudging his large muzzle into Ratchet's hands. He opened his jaw and deposited a sopping wet cube half-full of solvent. The remainder of the liquid sloshed out of his mouth and spilled all over Ratchet's hands and arms. 

"Grimlock!" the medic shouted angrily. 

"Me sorry," Grimlock said as he lowered Kup down. "Hands, full. Grimlock make due."

Chuckling, the old security director pulled out a cloth to help clean up the fuming medic. They had all learned quite a bit of tolerance when dealing with their special allies. "So why am I here again?"

"Him, Ratchet, asked for Kup!" Swoop supplied from the card table. 

Grimlock nodded sagely. "Solvent _and_ Kup. Ratchet, smart. Knew mess before it happen."

"You know, this reminds me of the time I visited a solvent factory on Telios," Kup chuckled. "A mech--big mech, bigger than Prime and twice as heavy--fell into the mixing batch. Had the orangest paint you'd ever seen this side of..."

Ratchet snatched the rag away from the rambling mech and grumpily scrubbed the solvent and energon from his sopping arms. Too much trouble. His creations were far more trouble than their worth. He asked for a cup, not Kup! Ratchet smacked his helm when realization set in. 

Glancing up at Grimlock, he couldn't help but feel the anger slip away at the happy lit to the Dinobot's optics. His frown turned into a soft smile when Grimlock nuzzled his snout against Kup and received an affectionate pat. Kup and his stories really did make his creation happy. That happiness almost made it worth it. 

That was until he realized the solvent was eating away his paint. 


End file.
